


self-fulfilled prophecy

by hugwarts



Series: teen idle [1]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Parenthood, Parents, dads, implied f/f original queer lady character, important original characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugwarts/pseuds/hugwarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>another km fill b/c i'm on a roll here: </p><p>Mike has been working for Harvey for about three months or so and he kind of thinks he has a handle on how the guy operates and what to expect so of course this is totally the moment when Donna buzzes in on the intercom, "Harvey, your daughter has just been arrested."</p><p>...Mike doesn't even know what part of that sentence to address first.</p><p>au in which harvey randomly has a daughter in college and she's fucking cool as shit and i'd kiss her</p><p>this is a self indulgent piece of shit i'm sorry i'm so sorry but dads</p><p>happy father's day dad i wrote u this piece of slash fanfiction</p>
            </blockquote>





	self-fulfilled prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> i really like this verse though i might write some other one-shots in the verse if people like it or if i have a craving for cavities on a given day
> 
> this is mostly pre-slash
> 
> also title taken from gen knowledge but more specifically marina and the diamonds--oh no!

          “Can you fill in for me at the Shoreworth mediation on Thursday? I have a motion hearing for dismissal of that pain-in-the-ass breach of contract case at 8 AM and there’s no way I’ll be able to make it out to the Hamptons in time,” Harvey says without looking up from the case file he’s rifling through. “Have you seen the financials from Eisen v. National around?”

          “Firstly, why is a motion hearing more important than mediation? Secondly, Eisen isn’t a US citizen and his company is based out of Stockholm, and most of the financials are shielded, but what the subpoena turned up should be in there. Look for a small file.”

          “Because I have Wright for the motion hearing, and she’ll want me there in order to grant a dismissal, and because as much as I don’t want to go to trial for Shoreworth, we’ll have to. The plaintiff’s valuation of the case is $10 million, and she won’t settle for much less. I don’t expect you to come back with a settlement from mediation, and don’t go any higher than $3 million.” Harvey pulls the financials from a folder.

          Donna’s voice pipes in the intercom. “Harvey. Cara’s on line 3.”

          Harvey glances at the blinking button and presses it, letting the phone go to speaker. “Cara! If you need more Starbucks money, try getting a job. I can line something up here for the rest of the summer.”

          “Daddy!” Mike mouths “ _Daddy? That’s fucked up, even for you, stud_.” at Harvey. “Number one, Starbucks is pretty much the grossest exploitation of capitalist culture since Apple and is the epitome of the faux-socially-conscious white girl. I do not drink Starbucks.”

          “And the number two is?”

`        “The reason I’m calling? Oh, it’s no big deal, but if you could pick me up from the police station on 126th?”

          “Cara! Is there an explanation? One that hopefully isn’t ‘I committed a crime,’ because I’m a civil attorney and I wouldn’t defend you if I weren’t.”

          “You know I was out protesting, right, Daddy? And some douchenozzle with a fucking My Little Pony t-shirt tried to grope me, so I pretty much rendered him infertile and even less attractive to human beings and I really can’t say I regret it.”

          Mike sees Harvey’s smirk and remains confused, but watches Harvey go into authoritarian mode even as he grins secretly.

          “Cara Specter, if I come and pick you up, you’ll be working here all summer and you _still_ won’t get any money for free trade chai or whatever because I think you’ll be busy working off your bail. We’ll be there in fifteen. Try not to set yourself up for any lawsuits or jail time while we’re on our way.”

          He picks up the receiver and drops it in the cradle quickly. “That’s my girl,” he says to Mike.

          “Uh, who exactly is “your girl?”” Mike says as he jumps to follow Harvey down the hallway and into the elevator.

          “Cara, my daughter. She’s at Wellesley right now, just finished her freshman year. Got into Harvard undergrad but we figured save that for law school. Political science and gender studies double major. Pre-law.” Harvey sounds almost…proud, and Mike finds it a little too close for comfort to Harvey’s bragging about Mike.

          “And she’s gotten arrested and you’re…proud of her?”

          “What, at least she wasn’t selling pot like you, dumbass,” Harvey says lightly. “They won’t be able to bring her up on real charges. And they won’t want to when they see me.”

          Ray pulls up to the curb in front of Pearson Hardman and Mike follows Harvey in. “Donna says to the police station for Cara,” Ray says.

          “Donna’s right,” Harvey says. “Knew before I did, most likely. Go as fast as you can without getting us thrown in the slammer with her.”

          Ray does, and they’re at the PD before Harvey can finish recounting Cara’s fourth grade escapades.

          Harvey walks up to the window and says, “I’m here to pick up Cara Specter. And if I could speak to her arresting officer, that would be great.” He flashes his snake-oil salesman smile at the receptionist, and she predictably melts and produces a scared-looking rookie. Harvey smiles at him as well, and Mike is terrified for him.

          “What’s your name, kid?” Harvey asks, still plastering a huge fake grin on his face.

          “Jeff, sir. Jeffrey Summers.”

          “Ah, Jeff. Good man,” Harvey claps a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Jeffrey, I’m not above pulling the “Do you know who I am” card. Do you, Jeff? Do you know who I am?”

          “You’re H-harvey Specter.”

          “Yes. Can you tell me why you arrested _my daughter_ , Cara _Specter_?”

          “S-she—we got a report—for assault—disorderly conduct.”

          “You did take her statement, correct?”

          “Y-yes sir.”

          “And what did you find?”

          Jeff looks miserable. “It may have been s-self defense, sir.”

          “May have been, Jeff. Can I ask you, did you touch my daughter?”

          “Only what was necessary, sir,” Jeff says, pointedly looking straight ahead and not at Harvey, still smiling at him.

          “And what _was_ necessary, Jeff?”

          “We—uh, cuffed her? And took her in?”

          “Are you aware of what I can have done to you, Jeffrey, if I find you laid so much as one finger on my daughter that she did not consent to or see the need for at this or at any point?”

          “Y-yes, but sir, I swear, I didn’t mean to do anything!”

          “I’m done with you, Jeff. I’ll be getting your badge number in case I hear anything, and you can bet your ass anything I hear will go straight over the head of your supervisor and to the director of the NYPD. Thanks for all your help.”

          Jeff almost passes out and runs away as fast as possible.

          “That was awesome!” Mike says.

          “No, Mike, that’s called being a dad.”

 

          A set of locked doors unlocks mechanically, and soon a teenage girl is escorted out. If Mike were looking for a Harvey lookalike, he was sorely disappointed. This girl was petite, wearing clothing that was even more petite—a bra and shorts, pretty much, with a diamond stud in her nose and a shock of magenta hair in a pixie cut that actually did kind of resemble Harvey’s hair.

          “Care Bear!” Harvey says, and seeing him all…fatherly…is a culture shock for Mike. Seeing him _hug_ a teenage girl who looks like she should be in for prostitution rather than assault is even weirder. Mike sees Harvey whisper in Cara’s ear, “ _You are in such deep shit, Care Bear. Once we get back to my office, we’re going to have a nice, long, chat. You, me, Aunt Donna. Maybe bring in Aunt Jessica and have you tell her about the conditions in today’s jails.”_

                Harvey quickly signs all the paperwork, and soon all of Cara’s personal effects are returned, the most cumbersome a large sign that says “MY SELF WORTH IS NOT INVERSELY PROPORTIONAL TO THE AMOUNT OF SKIN I SHOW.”

                Harvey hands the sign off to Mike, at which point Cara stares at him and gives him a firm once-over. “Who the hell is this kid?”

                “I’m twenty—“ Mike starts, because he’s not the _kid_ here.

                “Mike Ross, my associate.”

                “I presume this is your daughter and not just a hooker with a heart of gold you’re freeing?”

                Harvey shoots him a glare. “Only I get to make comments like that. But honey, you look like a skank.” Harvey passes over his suitjacket only to have it slung over a teen girl’s shoulder.

                Cara comes closer and pulls the patented Specter threatening whisper: “First of all: Hobbit: your entire ensemble costs less than probably fifteen minutes of my time were I a hooker, and I wouldn’t trust that skinny tie to hold up if I had to cuff some sort of—I don’t know—grossly sexist, slut-shaming _junior associate_ to a headboard and—I don’t know—leave him there?” _That’s more like Harvey…if Harvey were a terrifying girl who probably could defeat me in a contest of wits or strength._

“ _I love you_ ,” Mike mouths, and Cara immediately says, “I saw that,” even though she’s looking in the opposite direction. “ _I love you_ ,” he mouths again.

                “And Daddy? That is literally the point of a Slut Walk—I don’t look like a skank, I look like a woman. And a woman who enjoys sexual activity should not be shamed for that, just as I think we both know, men aren’t shamed for enjoying sexual activity. My attire is not what provokes rape, I am not a victim because I make myself a victim—I am a victim because of the patriarchal society that dictates oppressive norms.”

                “That’s all very well and good, but you can’t enter a top law firm in your underwear,” Harvey says, awkwardly draping the suit jacket over Cara’s shoulders.

                “I can take care of myself, Daddy. I’m nineteen!”

                “And yet, you could not bail yourself out of jail. And you were _in_ jail.”

                Cara shrugs carelessly and runs a hand through her short hair. “Fodder for my memoirs. And it isn’t like I was being held on bail, and we both know it. No more blackmail. And at least I’m not fucking a teenager moonlighting as an associate.”

                Harvey and Mike splutter at that. “I’m not—“ Mike starts before Harvey silences him.

                “Mike and I are not in a relationship, and Mike is a law school grad who is probably ten years older than you.”

                “And ten years younger than you, so maybe you should stop staring at him like you want to eat him,” Cara says, turning on her heel with a suggestive wink.

                When Harvey and Mike get to the car, Cara is already in the front seat with Ray, fiddling with the radio. “Oh, and did I tell you, Daddy, I’m on the e-board—the executive board—for the political society next year? And I’m president of the queer group. Pretty much unheard of for a sophomore but I—“

                “Learned from the best. I still don’t understand why you couldn’t have gone to Barnard.”

                “Dad, I need space. I can’t live in New York my entire life. Boston is a college town. And plus, if I’m going to a women’s college, I’m going to the best. I dated a girl from Harvard last semester. Familiarizing myself with the campus, you know. You know how great Cambridge is! It’s very…cute. Full of people who think they’re brilliant, it’s endearing, actually. Anyway, the debate is long over. I’ve been there a whole year, you know. If you wanted me to stay close to home, you should’ve asked. Not that I would have said yes, but it would give you a better argument at this point.”

                “Don’t lawyer me, Care Bear. You’re still nowhere close to ready to beat me,” Harvey says.

                When they get to Pearson Hardman, Harvey immediately begs off, and the message is clear: _Do not let her get into trouble._

                “So, your dad had a deposition, and I guess you’re stuck with me, so we can go upstairs, I can show you my cubicle—“

                “Are you coming on to me?” she jokes.

                “Uh, no?”

                “Good, because I’m gay. And I’m not stepping on my dad’s toes here. And also, ew.”

                Mike makes a face at that. “Hey, girls love me! I _have_ been told I am “adorable!””

                “Ooh, hate to be the one that bursts your bubble, but that means “I’m not sleeping with you” in Girl Talk,” Cara says, pushing the elevator call button, and for the 93rd time, Mike is running after a Specter.

                “Where are you going?”

                “Free trade chai doesn’t come in the break room at PH. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink and we can talk about why you’re after my dad’s admittedly pretty fit-for-an-old-guy ass.”

                “I am _not_ —“ Mike breaks into a powerwalk to match Cara’s and, damn, she’s doing this in heels. “after your dad’s ass. I am his _associate_ , which means I do what he tells me.”

                “And if he told you to suck his dick?”

                “We’re attorneys. He wouldn’t ask, because that would set him up for a suit.”

                “Correction, hobbit. My father’s an attorney. I don’t come to anything unprepared. You have not been in Cambridge recently. You never went to Harvard. That girl from Harvard I dated? She’s a 2L at Harvard Law—don’t tell my dad about that, he’d say she’s too old—and went to Wellesley before that. Just like you, never forgets anything. And she says in the past six years, there’s been no Mike Ross in Cambridge. I think ahead, Ross. I check the fucking PH website for news about my dad. We talk. I know who you are and who you aren’t.”

                “I was a paralegal for a few years after graduation!”

                “Name five paralegals at PH other than Rachel Zane and don’t pretend like you remember Rachel Zane for any other reason except she’s smoking—we’ve all been there. Don’t bother naming the paralegals. You didn’t graduate from Harvard. It’s fine. I think you’re still probably not jailbait, but you aren’t from Cambridge. I don’t care, I won’t rat you out. But don’t condescend to me.” She flashes a dangerous, very Harvey smile.

 

                They get to a small coffeeshop in a basement below a thrift shop and get tea. Mike really does enjoy Cara’s company after a while. Just like Harvey, she takes getting used to. She’s occasionally abrasive, curt, sarcastic, and Mike doesn’t understand her pop culture references like her understands her dad’s. They trade questions for questions, and Mike asks about the “look.”

                “I don’t want to conform to traditional beauty standards that condemn people of color, fat people, people without traditional European bone structure—“

                “But you fit all the traditional beauty standards!” Mike says.

                “Yes, which is why I attempt to transgress them! I could dye my hair blonde again and take out the nose ring, and no one would ever question this default rich white girl persona, and that isn’t me. I have to make people question. And it does bug Daddy a bit.” Cara smirks. “He knows I’ll have to change the look when I’m an attorney, but I have years yet. And I’m smart enough to pull this off for a while. My turn, though, and I’m not going to let this thing between you and my dad go, though. You’d be good for him. You do have feelings for him. Is it a you needing a dad thing, or a “who’s your daddy” type thing? I think he’s lonely, either way. I’m gone, he doesn’t have and kids or any partners.”

                “Oh, he has plenty of partners, trust me,” Mike laughs, somewhat bitterly. “And what about your mother?”

                “Do you think I don’t know my dad has plenty of partners? It’d be hypocritical of me to shame him for that, I think. But I’ve always been Daddy’s little bastard. I was born when Harvey was 19, freshman at NYU. He didn’t know I existed until he made it big and Mom wanted money. But surprise, he didn’t just want to pay her to forget he existed, and he got sole custody, so it’s just us, now. I don’t even remember her.”

                “I’m sorry,” Mike says.

                Cara laughs. “That’s such bullshit. Why are we always so sorry for other people when our sorrow changes nothing? I don’t care! You don’t care! Let’s not pretend this is a big loss. I have an extremely wealthy, extremely busy father in the big city and no mom to helicopter. I’m not complaining. But he does need you. He needs someone, whether that person is there to be his kid or to carry his kids—metaphorically, in this case. But I think he has lines he’s set up, and that’s a shame.”

                “He has plenty of lines. And one day, he might get over his stupid hang-ups on the smallest shit when his own personal code of ethics apparently involves lying to everyone we know about my degree anyway.”

                “Oh, Mike,” she frowns. “You really do like him!”

                “He’s my boss. And he’s your dad! You shouldn’t be encouraging this!”

                “I’m not encouraging. I’m just saying that I have two tickets to the Star Trek movie and I’m really more of a Star Wars gal and maybe you’d know someone who always works late hours and never has time to see new movies even when he owns entire box sets of the original canon of said movies and it would really be doing him a favor, wouldn’t it?”

                “I feel like you’re setting me up! Are you setting me up?”

                Cara grins. “Nope. But it would help if Daddy wanted me out of the house some nights this summer. I’ve got places to be, people to see, if you catch my drift.”

                “I guess you’ll have to settle for Columbia girls over the summer.”

                “Closest Ivy. Guess I will.”

               

                Harvey finds them sitting on his desk when he gets back from his deposition. “Please do not be sharing embarrassing stories. Also, get your ass off the Shoreworth file,” he says, settling into his chair.

                Mike jumps off the desk. “Just that I’ve got this extra ticket to Star Trek at 7:45, and it’d be a shame for a seat to go undampened by the tears of a Captain Kirk fanboy. And don’t make excuses, I’ve had Donna check your calendar.”

                Harvey looks at him in surprise, then starts laughing. “Cara put you up to this! Cara thinks I’m lonely and I need a friend?”

                Mike lowers his voice and stage whispers conspiratorially, “Cara thinks you’re lonely and need to fuck someone you have feelings for, but will settle for you just going to a movie with me.”

                Harvey stage whispers back, “Cara should know that sex doesn’t equal intimacy and that I get plenty of the first and want none of the second.”

                “Daddy, come on!” Cara whines. “Kirk and Spock? You can’t resist Kirk/Spock and you know it. And I think Mike has the body type to pull off a Spock cosplay if you’re into that kinda thing, sexwise.”

                Both Harvey and Mike stare at her disgustedly. She just shrugs. “Hey, I’m not judging. Harvard girl—brilliant, brilliant girl—totally into furries. Why we broke it off.”

                “Cara, I will pay you to stop talking,” Harvey grits out through clenched teeth.

                “No payment necessary. Just going on a date with Mike. And invite me to the wedding,” she says over her shoulder as she leaves, carrying her protest sign with her.

                “You know, I think she just might be onto something,” Mike says, grinning widely.

                “Shut up,” Harvey says, but it isn’t a no. 


End file.
